Drunken Winter (Joseph Ceravolo)

Hee. I'm a little tipsy and so (or more) is this poem by Joe C.

It so does not make sense. I like the first line. The insistence and one-mindedness of the opening "Oak oak!" followed by the emotionality of "like like". It's an automatic draw to the meat of the poem. To be drunk. It makes no sense.

The poem is sort of fall-like. Or winter, so says the title. It's drunk, for sure. Ha, maybe the last line "Oak sky" is an explanation of where/how N ends up, gazing at the trees' branches reaching to the infinite. Infinite...fuzzy like the non-firmness of the poem with its nonlinear patterns, mayhaps.

Favorite line: "so sky then:"